


Kinktober 2019

by WhatTheBodyGraspsNot



Series: The Oneshots Collection [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, please check individual days for each prompt's tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-09 04:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20847593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot/pseuds/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot
Summary: One-a-day prompt fills for Kinktober 2019!





	1. Sexual Frustration

**Author's Note:**

> <strike>Glory Hole | Bukkake </strike>| Sexual Frustration |<strike> Roleplay</strike>
> 
> **Summary:** Being in space is really fucking up Lance's dick energy. And when Lance's dick energy is fucked up, he finds it hard to focus and function and, you know, not be an asshole. Which is why staking out alone with someone like Keith in this cabin for three days is going to be hell for him.  
**Additional Tags:** early canon compliant, except they're aged up because i said so, keith is a little dense but that's okay because he gets it in the end, first time frottage baby!

Zooming around the universe on a tight schedule can fuck with you. Lance figures this out quick. It can fuck with you and in more ways than one. 

He’s finally got the whole eating thing down. Finally figured out a hygiene routine that isn’t as intense as his one on Earth was, but it keeps him satisfied. What he hasn’t figured out, though?

_ Crack! _

The split of wood into two clean pieces has Lance frowning where he sits on the porch of their hideout. He’s supposed to be looking at the map of the forest spread around them - that’s what Keith had tasked him with, at least - but the concept of him focusing on anything right now is laughable.

_ Crack! _

A wince this time. Fire in Lance’s belly.

They’re staked out here alone for three days while the rest of the team fans out, but it’s the last place Lance wants to be. The last kind of company he wants to keep - not even able to joke with Keith about what’s got him strung so tightly because-...

Ugh _ god. _

_ Crack! _

Lance huffs, eyes fixing on where the teammate in question raises his makeshift axe a little further out, bared muscles tensing as he brings it down to slice through another well-positioned log.

This shit’s right up Keith’s alley. The exact kind of routine that comes second-nature to him from living in that stupid little shack before this. He’s an expert. Which is why he’s the one giving orders. But Lance doesn’t wanna map shit out. Lance doesn’t wanna scrub their boots. _ God, _all Lance really fucking wants is-

_ Crack! _

It’s uncurling. Deep in his belly. With every little grunt of exertion and flex of slick muscles because Keith’s got this pretty sheen going across his chest now and Lance himself may not care but his dick sure does.

God, does it ever.

And it’s not even Lance’s fault, okay? It’s not like he usually lusts after his own teammate or anything, he’s just-... It’s been a really-

_ Crack! _

Deep breaths. 

Focus on the map. 

Don’t look - don’t look - don’t look-

_ Crack- _

_ “Fuck…” _

A swing and a miss for both of them and Lance’s hand has a mind of its own - drops away from the map he’s hiding behind - feeds off the pleasing sight and drops lower...dangerous...grazing over himself and pulling a little intake of breath and-

Nope.

Nope nope nope he’s gotta stop. There’s no way in hell he should be touching himself looking at Keith. No possible way this can turn out well and he-

He’s-

Lance flattens the map and stands with a huff because he’s gotta move - gotta push forward and walk this shit off in the forest a little and he doesn’t mean to but he does - poor spatial awareness - shoulder roughly knocking into Keith’s on the pass-by and…

Lance keeps moving.

Keeps forward.

Has to _ walk this shit off _\- even if Keith has turned to watch after him with a pensive frown.

_ _ _

Dinner is..._tense. _

Lance swears he’s trying his best to get his head out of his ass but that’s not easy when every muscle in his body is wound up this tightly.

Keith notices. He notices and Lance knows this because he can feel the eyes on him as he’s trying to eat. Can hear the silent pondering from across the small table. Can taste the question that hangs so heavily in the air and _ god- _

“What.” He snaps it. On accident. 

But Keith seems to expect it, already answering. “What’s the matter with you.”

_ “What?” _

“You’re not acting right.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re quiet.”

“So what-”

“You’re never quiet.”

Lance huffs, finally tearing his attention from his meal so he can fix Keith with a look that he hopes screams _ ‘drop it’. _

It doesn’t. “Did I do something?”

What? “No, you didn’t do anything-”

“You’re acting like you do when I piss you off-”

“Keith.” His eyes roll shut because ugh, can this conversation be over? “It’s not you - I’m just stressed.”

“About the mission?”

“No-”

“We’re not even halfway into it-”

_ “No-” _

“Then what the hell are you-”

“Fuck! Keith - Jesus Christ I’m just horny okay?” He’s shouting and he shouldn’t be but _ god - _“I need to get off. Are you happy? Do you understand now?”

It’s an outburst of embarrassing proportions but Lance is too frustrated to be embarrassed. Too tense to give a shit.

Even as Keith’s gaze drops away in thought, then confusion, then meets him again. “So just...jerk off?”

Holy shit. “It’s not the same.”

“I don’t-”

“It’s not the same, Keith!” Oh god, the very real aggravation is kicking in and kicking in fast. He’s gotta remove himself. Gotta tear away from Keith’s calculating eyes and pick literally any direction and start moving in it.

It’s the direction to the front door.

That’s where his legs take him. 

And he knows he’s storming off on Keith for now a second time in one day, but this whole walking-shit-off-in-the-forest thing is quickly becoming a habit of his.

_ _ _

He can’t stray too far.

He can’t walk shit off for good because he didn’t map out when he was supposed to be mapping out.

_ _ _

The fresh air is enough to cool his dumb ass down. To even things out just enough that he can go back inside with his head held as highly as possible, given the fact that he just had a mini-horny-freakout in front of Keith.

The lanterns have all been blown out when he steps inside. Except for the one on the porch. A beacon in the night. Something Lance definitely should’ve put out for himself before he stormed off but didn’t.

He twists it off with a sigh.

Pushes inside.

Strips his shirt off and ties up some comfier sleep pants and makes his way to the bathroom with his toothbrush.

Keith is already there. Already in his sleep pants. Chest lit faintly by the lantern as he brushes his teeth.

Lance ignores him as best he can. Ignores the quiet tension lurking there as he comes up beside him to share the spit bucket. (It’s undignified but what other option do they have with no running water?)

He’s not gonna say anything. Not gonna return the glance in the pane of reflective glass in front of them. Not gonna do anything but brush his teeth and end this day, the familiar mint on his tongue a reminder that soon things will return to normal.

Keith spits. Rubs the back of his hand over his mouth. Is _ finished _but lingers, thoughts loud but indecipherable as he watches Lance in the reflection.

It’s like it was tonight from across the table but different. Less speculative. More like whatever he’s pondering is more specific now. More clear cut. A yes or no situation and it works under Lance’s skin so deeply that he forces himself to spit and then pulls away - pulls off - disappears from the glow of the lantern and the pull of Keith’s gaze until he’s tucked away in the room he claimed this morning.

Here, he can breathe. 

Here, he can collapse on the long couch stretched in front of the pane of floor-to-ceiling windows. 

It’s why he claimed this room. Why he made such a huge fucking deal about it. Because from here he can see the forest. He can see the leaves - orange and red and yellow, even in the moonlight.

Lance stretches out on his back, an arm tucked behind his head as he lets his thoughts linger.

He shouldn’t have snapped at Keith.

It’s not his fault Lance is so sexually frustrated lately. 

It’s not like he knew what he was doing to him today - with that axe and those muscles and all that.

He shouldn’t have snapped.

He should apologize.

He should-

Lance startles at the sudden movement by the end of the couch, his head lifting off his arm but only for a moment, because-

“Jesus, dude…”

Keith doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t snap back with anything. No, he’s completely silent, eyes trained and determined and _ oh… _

Lance’s stomach flips with confusing interest. Lap tingles with even more. Pulse kicks in as Keith keeps moving until he’s-...until he’s dropping to climb on top of Lance and-

“W-...” oh god, “Uh-”

It’s a whirlwind - everything happening so slowly but Keith’s body is warm on top of his - hands hold himself up on either side of Lance’s shoulders, not touching but close - eyes _ so fucking determined _ as he peers down at him and drags his lap over Lance’s and _ ohhh god holy shit- _

“Wwwwhat uh-” Lance’s face is heating up - body is heating up - “K-...oh fuck…”

Because he’s moving. He’s swaying, hips rocking tentatively and leaving buzzing warmth in their wake. 

He’s-... 

They’re-...

Lance lets out a steadying breath, his eyes fluttering closed in bliss. And they shouldn’t. They shouldn’t, right? This isn’t something they should be doing, he’s pretty sure but _ fuck _it feels good. Has his free arm moving, hesitantly reaching out to slowly smooth down Keith’s side as he moves.

They shouldn’t.

They really fucking shouldn’t be doing this.

Is that why it’s so hot?

A growl slips from the back of Lance’s throat, his hips starting to rock into the delicious friction because _ fuck it, _honestly. It’s what his body has been craving. What Keith’s decided on his own that he wants to give him. What has his pulse starting to thrum against his ears as he follows the drag of their laps.

The moonlight cast over Keith’s skin when he opens his eyes is heavenly - like an angel sent to deliver him from his tightly wound nerves. An angel that seems to be getting just as much out of it as he is, Keith’s lips parted and eyelids gone sweetly heavy as he grinds on top of him.

Lance swallows. Steadies himself. Brings his arm out from behind his head to direct Keith backward - another whirlwind - a flip that has him coming out on top, driven by the hormones and the heat and no, he doesn’t need to give into it, but it feels so amazing that he’s not sure he can stop now.

But Keith doesn’t look like he expects him to. Doesn’t look like he _ wants _ him too, hips working as Lance falls into line and ruts against him the way he needs - long but quick and incredible because he’s _ so hard. _God he is so hard but so is Keith, their cocks rubbing together in the tight heat between their pants and where Lance keeps their bodies pressed snug.

He’s gonna cum soon. He’s gonna cum from something as stupid as a little dry humping but he doesn’t care. He needs it. Fucking craves it. Chases after it, hips working like they did back on Earth when he was young and stupid and couldn’t do anything but hump his pillow but-

A strangled growl tears from Keith’s throat, labored breaths turning Lance on even more as he feels him grab his hips, desperate for it as he pulls him in tighter and Lance is gonna cum - he can feel it - can already feel how differently it works up his body when he’s with someone else - heady and full and sure to be satisfying and he _ wants it. _

He _ wants that shit. _

“Fuck-” it’s almost angry but he doesn’t care - doesn’t care - he wants it wants it wants it and - 

Lance’s entire body tenses impossibly tighter, his hips rocking off-even as he cums in his pants - hot and sticky and gross but it feels like heaven - like his entire sense of being is floating up into the atmosphere and finally free from all the strain and _ fuck. _

Fuck...

...fuck...

Under him, Keith’s slinging an arm over his face. But he can’t hide the way his mouth drops open as he must cum too, noiseless except for the strangle in his breath and stutter of his hips.

Lance watches it all under the rosy glaze of post-orgasm brain. A first, seeing Keith like this. Seeing him tip over and even out.

It’s new and intriguing and all at once a little scary. Because when that arm slips away, he’s still breathy and spent but his gaze is back, unable to decide between fixing on Lance and dropping away.

It’s the come-down.

The aftermath.

The realization, on both of their parts. 

And…

Lance sits back. Gives him space. Crawls off him entirely until they have their own spots on the couch to compose themselves. 

And Keith’s _ really _struggling with something in that stupid brain of his, eyes flicking away when the contact is too much. 

They shouldn’t have done that. They both know. They both knew before it even started, but-

Lance huffs out a laugh through his nose - fucking has to, the adrenaline of it all rushing back into his chest because _ Jesus! They just did that! _

Keith receives it with a microscopic brow furrow but then rolls his eyes, the couch groaning as he gathers to his feet without a word.

But Lance can see the grin trying to edge its way forward. He can absolutely see it. And when Keith disappears again, closing the door behind himself, he collapses back with a satisfied sigh, arm behind his head again as he lets his gaze flit off into the forest.

He’ll clean himself up in a second.

Right now he’s just gonna bask in the afterglow.

* * *


	2. Soft Dom/Coaching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft Dom/Coaching |<strike> Painplay | Pregnancy | Intercrural Sex</strike>
> 
> **Summary:** Sometimes Keith doesn't want everything riding on his shoulders. Sometimes he just wants his boyfriend to make him putty in his hands and stick his dick down his throat.  
**Additional Tags:** canon compliant, established relationship, soft dom lance, good boy keith, blow jobs/face fucking, subspace, not 3000% sure what coaching is and too afraid to look it up so this is what i think it is - send tweet

* * *

It always starts the same way. A clear-cut sign. Keith, padding into the room they share now without the others knowing, silent as a mouse as he drops to the floor beside where Lance is sitting and lets his head rest deliberately against his knee.

It’s the sign. The unspoken signal that Keith has _ had enough. _ Doesn’t wanna lead anymore. Doesn’t wanna make any decisions. _He’s_ _ had enough. _

Lance always greets him with a gentle, “Hey babe…” or a “There you are…” or a sometimes teasing “How’d I know this was gonna happen tonight…?” if Keith seems like he's up for something more playful. But the rest is always the same - Lance keeping his attention on whatever task he’s doing, but dropping his other hand to card calmly through Keith’s hair where he’s waiting for him.

Tonight he’s reading. Something about the flora and fauna on an upcoming planet. And steadily his hand moves, fingers massaging lightly over Keith’s scalp...blunt fingernails...just the right amount of pressure...grazing slowly around the back of Keith’s skull...then around...above his ear...above the other...the back of his skull again…

It’s calming for him, but even more therapeutic for the boy now slumped against his leg - troubled thoughts melting away and breaths coming nice and slow. 

Lance waits until his eyes have fallen closed. 

Waits for the first little nod-off and come-to before speaking.

“Wanna get changed...?”

Because Keith’s still in his uniform. Still buttoned up except for the first two he's popped open.

And that’s not gonna work for them.

“Go get undressed…” Lance’s hand slips over the back of Keith’s neck before disappearing, but his attention stays focused on his book. 

Even as Keith gathers to his feet, movements drawn out and easy - a stark contrast to how he has to move around the ship. It’s the mellow-out he needs. The kind of energy he likes slipping into, silent as he comes to rest at the end of the bed in the corner of Lance’s vision.

“Fold ‘em nice…” Lance turns a page... “Like we always do…” voice even… “...‘kay, baby?”

“...‘kay...” 

Hushed. Sweet. Beyond tempting to abandon his book and go scoop him up, but that’s not what Keith needs right now. So Lance waits patiently… Listens to the sound of fabric moving over skin and draping over itself… Turns another page and gives the silence a few more moments before speaking again.

“All done?”

“Mhm…”

His book slides quietly onto his desk as he stands, heart melting in his chest from the sight of Keith standing there in his briefs, observing his work at the foot of their bed. 

He’s gotta come up behind him. Has to wrap his arms snugly around his middle, bare skin warm under his touch as he joins him to look over his shoulder.

“Good job, babe…” He’s got his uniform all folded, set in a well-kept pile, on top of a well-made bed. Organized. What Lance learned Keith’s brain wants for simple things after a long day. “Doesn’t it look nice?”

Keith hums lowly, both hands reaching up to hang from where Lance’s arms hold him. “Mhm…”

“All nice and neat.”

“Mm…”

Lance lets him appreciate it for a moment more, selfishly enjoying the warmth that holding his boyfriend brings him. And then, voice easy as Keith asks it…

“Can I wear something…?”

Lance can’t deny the cuteness of it, but has to address the miss-step, even gently. “What was that…?”

“Can I wear something please…”

There we go. “Of course you can.” He doesn’t wanna let go but does. Doesn’t wanna create space but he does. “Take something from the closet.”

Lance’s closet.

Lance’s clothes.

Keith doesn’t even have to say it for him to understand what he actually wants.

And as he stands there, silent once again in Lance’s peripherals, it’s clear he’s given him too much choice. Too much to make a decision with. 

“Take the comfy pants.” 

Keith likes those.

Lance likes how Keith looks in those.

It’s a win-win.

The sound of the closet rolling shut and more fabric pulling smoothly over bare skin has him falling back into his desk chair, slowly rolling it out and away so he can turn in it - so he can see how Keith waits for him, adorable in Lance’s loose black sweatpants.

God, how can he resist?

“C’mere.”

It’s an easy instruction. The one he uses most often. His favorite, to be honest. Because it’s the one that gets Keith back into his space.

He drops to the carpet in front of Lance once again… Fits himself in the space Lance has made for him between his open legs… Looks so fucking sweet, his face pressing into Lance’s hand as he reaches down to cup his cheek.

“I love you…” Lance is honest with it. Says it often.

Loves the way Keith’s eyes ease shut as he presses his face snugger into his hand. 

“You’re so pretty, babe…” 

“Mm…”

“Tell me how pretty you are…” because that hum was borderline whiny, “Hey. Tell me.”

Keith lets out a breath through his nose, eyes still closed. “...‘m pretty…”

“What?”

“I’m pretty.” Louder this time. Clearer. What Lance wants to hear, but not just.

“And you’re smart…” he slips his thumb over Keith’s plump lips. “Say it, baby.”

Against Lance’s thumb. Warm breath. “...I’m smart...” Warm, wet mouth as Lance pushes in.

Lips wrapping. The gentlest of sucks. “And you take my cock so nicely…”

Keith lets out another breath through his nose, cheeks dusting the lightest shade of pink.

It’s adorable and Lance wants more. “Hey. Look at me.” Feels his heart swell and the curl of arousal just from the sight of those pretty eyes opening up for him. “Don’t you love my cock?” He gets an easy nod - no question. “Then tell me.”

“Mm-”

“Tell me, baby.” Keith’s eyes fall shut, the pad of Lance’s thumb pumping lightly over his tongue. “Ah ah- eyes open.” He’s slipping.

Mumbling, mouth preoccupied. But not as preoccupied as it could be. 

He can do better.

“You what?”

“...’ove it…”

“Speak up.”

“I ‘ove your cock…” Eyes open - hazy - slipping - getting right where they both need him to slip.

Lance leans back in his chair. Slides his thumb from Keith’s mouth, slowly tracing his spit over his lips before taking his hand away entirely. And it’d be enough to have Keith upset if he didn’t back it up with: “Take my pants off.”

Because it’s what Keith wants, movements still dragged out in that loose, heady state as he reaches up to tuck his fingers under Lance’s waistband and pull.

Lance shifts. Goes with the movement. Lives for the sense of satisfaction already seeming to blanket over Keith as his cock stands at the ready before him, hard from their back and forth.

And Keith knows what he can and can’t do. Knows he isn’t allowed to move forward without permission, gaze hazy as he licks his lips.

It brings a smile to Lance’s face. “So patient.” Has his hand coming back down to card through the back of his hair and ease his head forward.

Permission.

Keith’s mouth is warm and wet and moves slowly - always slowly - just short of euphoria and it has Lance letting out a steadying breath through pursed lips. Has his hand dropping away and coming to settle on the chair’s armrest like the other, head tilting as he watches Keith blow him.

“Good job, baby…” he murmurs, pleasure tingling up his spine from the long, slick passes of Keith’s tongue over his hard cock. “Just like that.”

He can always count on him to do it right. Loves loves _ loves _the way his eyes roll closed again as he sucks him off - fully content to not worry about anything other than having his mouth stuffed full with Lance’s dick. It’d have his hips rocking into it if he were a lesser man. But this is all part of the routine.

“So good…” he praises, still lounging back as he gives more instruction. “Lemme see that tongue.”

Keith goes along without thought - too loose to think - tongue flattening to lick hotly up the entire length of his cock, heavy eyelids that leave more tingles up Lance’s spine.

“Good boy…” Lance grabs himself at the base - “Stay there for me…” uses the hold to slap his hard cock against Keith’s waiting tongue, a groan peeling from the back of his throat from the sensation. “Fuck…”

Keith does as he’s told. Mouth open wide and tongue stuck out for him and so pretty that Lance has to lean forward - has to slap himself on that nice wet tongue before slipping forward down his throat.

Keith’s lips want to wrap around him but he denies it - “Did I tell you to move?” - waits for that head shake no and his mouth to drop back open before slipping forward again, slowly fucking Keith’s throat with agonizingly slow thrusts.

It’s getting him. Getting Keith. Spit dribbling past Keith’s lips and eyes fluttering shut and brows pinching as Lance keeps himself sheathed in his slick heat this time - pushing his limits but just a little - just enough for the feeling of Keith’s throat tensing around him and the choke and then he’s slipping back out, admiring how his cock has left him red in the face, spit dripping down his chin.

_ “Fuck…” _he’s so in love with him. Delights in how he’s pressing his face into his hand when he reaches down to cup his cheek again. “So pretty, baby…”

The lack of oxygen has Keith’s chest rising and falling quicker, has goosebumps pricking over his skin. Is driving Lance crazy but he has to keep a level head. Has to keep it together. Because this isn’t about him. 

“C’mon.” This is about Keith, mouth hot around him again, impossibly slick with all the spit, nostrils flaring as Lance grips into his hair a little when he asks it. “You hard, sweetheart?”

He gets a head nod. 

Wants more. 

“Yeah? You all nice and hard down there from sucking my dick?”

“Mhm…” Keith’s mouth vibrates around him - a shockwave of pleasure. 

“You wanna get off?”

_ "Mm... _Mhm..."

Lance’s hips rock into the feeling, heat gathering between his legs. “Pull yourself out then.”

It’s a lot to concentrate on for where Keith’s slipped off into, the steady rhythm of his mouth losing speed as he slides a hand down into those black sweatpants. But Lance is more than willing to help him.

He picks it back up with easy rocks, fucking into Keith’s mouth but this time gently. This time sweeter, entertained by the stroke Keith’s started up for himself when he glances down.

“Good job, baby.” He always looks so cute jerking himself off with Lance’s cock in his mouth. “Good boy.”

Keith hums lowly, Lance’s black sweatpants stretched down over his hips, lap rocking into the heat of his hand._ Fuck, so cute. _

“Take a breath.” 

Because Lance is easing himself forward on the chair, the quicker pace he’s got now setting him up for the perfect moment, bottom lip snagged between his teeth as he waits for Keith’s breath through his nose before slipping himself down his throat again. 

It feels like heaven, Keith’s brows pinching but throat open for him and _ fuck _he’s gotten so good at this, hasn’t he? “Yes - good boy.” Deep-throats Lance’s cock so easily, doesn’t he? “You like that, baby?”

Keith groans - mouth full - wrist snapping quicker around his own dick.

So cute. “You get off to this, don’t you?” Another groan. “Choking on my cock.”

The sound comes right on cue, Keith’s face red and air punching from him as Lance slides out of him, in love with the filthiness of it all. 

So much that he does it again - “Breathe.” - bottoms out and waits a second before starting up an easy pace, the head of his cock slipping down Keith’s throat again and again and leaving the boy beneath him a mess. 

_ His _mess.

Tears pricking the corners of his closed eyes. Chest slick with his own spit. Hand jerking himself off to the feeling of it all like the good boy he is and-

Keith’s eyes fly open, glossy where he locks onto Lance and mouth trying to pull off but it’s too late, everything coming to a head and his moan garbled around Lance’s cock as he cums on himself, streaking hard and thick onto his chest.

And-

He’s pulled off completely, “Sorry-” pupils blown and breath so heavy it’s almost overpowering because he came without being told to but, “S-”

“It’s okay,” Lance is gonna let it fly. For now. Gonna press forward and slip his cock back into his mouth because he’s close too. And this is far from over. And he’ll get him back for acting out of turn in a moment, but for now, “I’m close - finish me off, baby.”

Except all Keith can do is sit there, melting from the headspace and his orgasm and the glorious feeling of Lance fucking his mouth again. But that’s all Lance needs him to do. Just needs him to be his cute, blissed out little self for him and _ fuck- _

“Mouth open-” he’s gonna cum- “Mouth open - mouth open - mouth open-”

Keith processes quickly, pulling off and sitting back on his knees, eyes closed and tongue out like expected and _ fuck fuck fuck he’s so cute Jesus- _

Lance groans, body tensing as his cum streaks across Keith’s face - in his hair - down his messy chest with his own cum.

He’s a fucking mess and Lance loves it. Loves _ him. _Loves the way he lets his eyes drop open, still blissful as a satisfied grin dances over his messy face.

Lance swallows thickly, pulse pounding in his ears and heart full in his chest. “Good-... Good boy...” It’s breathy but gets his point across. Pairs with the thumb he brings down to collect some of his cum off Keith’s chin and slip back into his mouth to be sucked clean. _ “God _ I love you…” 

Keith hums, tongue swiping slowly over the thumb in his mouth as he leans his weight into Lance’s thigh. 

Lance allows it. Wants to bask in the moment before he corrects that little mishap. But even then, he knows they’ll both come out satisfied. 

Which is why the way Keith buries his forehead against his inner thigh when Lance says it - “Go lie down on the bed,” - it threatens to break a smile over Lance’s face. “But get the rope first.”

His folded uniform isn’t gonna stay folded all nice and neatly for long.

* * *


	3. Nipple-play / Gags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nippleplay |<strike> Breeding </strike>| Gags |<strike> Lactation </strike>
> 
> **Summary:** Playing with Lance's nipples is fun as hell. Playing with Lance's nipples while he's tied up and gagged is even better.  
**Additional Tags:** established relationship, gags/wrist restraints, lance has sensitive nipples uwu, also lance trying to talk through a gag is my new religion

* * *

Keith isn’t normally a patient guy, but for this he can be. For Lance he can be, the boy in question doing the same for him. 

The only difference is, Lance doesn’t have a choice. Lance has no other option but to lie here under him, hands tied together to the bed frame and body squirming under Keith’s tongue, nothing but the muffled “Mmf” escaping him through the gag in his mouth. 

It’s a thing of beauty. Keith had made sure to appreciate his work once the fabric had been stuffed between those pretty but constantly moving lips, the other piece tied around his head to hold it in place. It keeps all of Lance’s noises stifled. Each and every one of them. And oh god, are there a lot.

Because Lance never shuts up, but he  _ especially  _ never shuts up when Keith’s mouth is anywhere near his nipples - ultra sensitive to the touch almost always.

And now he’s tied up. Hands off. Mouth gagged.

So  _ of course  _ what is Keith gonna do?

“Mm-mmm…” It comes as a heated whine, one of many in a _long_ string of heated whines.

“Hm?” Keith’s feigning innocence. Swirling his tongue around one of his nipples to pull another whine out of him and then lifting his head to ask again, just as casual but knowing damn well Lance can’t answer him. “What?”

Because all he can do is stare down at him, eyes narrowing but face undeniably flushed as he grumbles something probably not too pleasant around the gag.

Keith blinks. Waits. Strings him along for a moment more and then drops down to go back to flicking the tip of his tongue over his hard nipples.

Lance’s legs gather together, a long, steady groan escaping him under the attention. 

They’re his weak spot. They’re his weak spot and Keith knows it and at the same time can’t deny that he might enjoy playing with them a little more than necessary - likes to get them nice and hard and then circle his tongue around them or roll them between his fingers or bite them - maybe - if things get rougher.

It’s only made better by how insanely horny it all gets Lance. How fully each pass of Keith’s tongue works over his body until he’s a squirmy mess.

“Hmmh…”

Keith ignores that one. He knows it’s because he’s started giving attention to both nipples at the same time, sucking one into his mouth and reaching over to tweak the other between his fingers. 

It has Lance’s naked body rolling, lap pressing up into nothing, trying to get some sort of attention instead of the tease.

Keith ignores that too.

He’s not even close to being done.

_ “Hmmh…” _

Whinier. More concentrated. Louder as Keith quickly licks over the nipple in his mouth. 

_ “Mm-” _

“What Lance?” He breaks off for this one, attention lifting and settling sternly where his boyfriend is staring down at him - “Got something to say?” - where that heated stare is shouting but knows well enough how this situation leaves him. “No?” Keith’s taunting and he knows it, but  _ c’mon.  _ They’ve got their safe-word-hum and Lance looks far from ready to use it. So...

Lance swallows, drool beginning to dribble down his chin. 

One last chance.

He shakes his head.

Keith accepts it and breaks the eye-contact so he can go back to work with an equally stern: “Then settle down.”

He’s gonna take his time. Because he wants to. Because he can. And there’s nothing Lance can do about it but curl his toes and give another experimental tug at his restraints as the arousal blooms down his chest and into his lap.

But he’s quiet now. As quiet as he can be, at least, his breathing labored and the voice dropped off into the sweetest little keen as Keith glances up, watching his face while he flicks the tips of his middle fingers over his sensitive nipples.

Because it’s hot, honestly - how turned on Lance gets from this - face red, brows furrowing or pinching together when Keith decides to flick at an uneven space, creating sweet sweet anticipation that leaves his boyfriend’s lap rocking up into nothing again.

He wants the friction. Is getting needy for it. Tilts his hips toward where Keith’s settled himself off to the side but- “Nope.” - Keith’s not gonna give it to him. Not yet. Not when he looks this gorgeous.

It has a rush of air exhaling from Lance’s nose. Has his head falling back in impatience. Has a groan dancing into the space between them as Keith spits on his right nipple, getting it wet again so he roll it between his fingers as he drops off to bring the left one gently between his teeth.

It’s not hard. Just a tease. A little more direct pressure that has Lance’s long legs gathering up again on the bed before straightening out. 

“Hmmh…”

Keith can see the pleasure work its way down Lance’s body from the bite. Licks over his nipple and snags it between his teeth again.

_ “Hhhhmm…” _

Keeps it there and licks his tongue over the hardened bud - double sensation - Lance’s hands grabbing into fists at the bed frame. And maybe if Keith adds just a little more pressure-

_ “Mm-” _

He can hear the change in tone immediately - clipped and in pain and  _ shit - that was too hard- _ “Sorry.” 

Lance is wincing when he glances up, eyes closed, but it’s evening off with the head nod that both signals his acceptance of the apology and want to keep going. 

But Keith takes special care. 

Plants a loving but gentle kiss where he’s bitten too hard. 

Blows a steady, concentrated stream of cool air over it and delights in the shiver it sends down Lance’s body. The  _ subtle tilt of his hips- _

“Lance.” He’s trying to piggyback off of Keith’s mistake. Trying to milk the apology for all it’s worth but-... “Stop it.”

And oh, the range of emotions on this boy - how they cycle so quickly when he’s strung up like this - from needy to hurt to  _ have a fucking fit,  _ head pressed back and fists clenched tight and legs kicking out, bratty as all fuck from being denied why he wants for so long but  _ excuse Keith? _

Because Keith leans back. All the way. Watches it with near dumb-surprise because: “Really?”

He’s really gonna throw a fit like this?

Lance’s body settles but his gaze doesn’t, heated and  _ shouting shouting shouting at Keith  _ until it isn’t - until he makes the connection that Keith is very much gathering to his feet - very much walking away from the bed and  _ oh god, the remorse that flashes in them then. _

“Mm-mmh!” He’s trying to say words, garbled by the gag in his mouth but Keith keeps walking. Even if he’s desperate to see what he looks like behind him. “Hmmh _hhh-_hhmmmh!”

He’s apologizing. Keith’s almost sure of it.

But if he’s gonna act up, that’s on him.

The hallway is so much cooler as Keith steps into it, always pretending to hold the reigns with these things, but his legs won’t take him further than next to the door frame, back slumped against the wall as he waits… Hears the struggle against restraints… Hears the very real whine that floats out into the hallway from in there…

He wonders what Lance’s face is doing. Is he pissed? Realizing very quickly how much he needs that attention back on him now that it’s gone? If Keith had to venture a guess - especially from the pathetic  _ “Hnnnngn”  _ that barely reaches his ears - he’d say Lance is settling somewhere within the extra-needy category again. 

And listen… He can’t deny that it’s kinda cute. He’d be brain-dead to not be at least a  _ little  _ hard from working Lance over into a squirmy drooly mess. Right?

Another whine. Pathetic this time. 

And then one that strikes right through Keith’s heart like the fucking softy he is for this boy, the end up it lilted upward in tone like-...like he’s calling out his name.

Keith huffs, stuffing down the embarrassment for one more second before turning to lean against the open door. Because  _ who’s _ whipped for  _ who _ again?

Lance should perk up at the sight of relief but he doesn’t, his shoulders pulled up to his ears as he lies there, gaze flitted away and brows furrowed.

He’s pouting.

The big baby.

The floorboards creak under Keith’s steps as he approaches the bed again, face trained but arousal swirling. Because Lance may be pouting, but he’s still hard as fuck, his big cock pretty and standing at the ready but ignored for almost an hour now.

And…

_ Fuck. _

“You do  _ not  _ deserve this,” Keith notes, but he’s unzipping his pants all the same, the small movement all it takes for Lance’s attention to fix on him.

And if he could speak right now, Lance’s mouth would be moving a mile a minute. But he can’t. Not a single word. All he can do is watch, eyes gone wide with anticipation and surprise - like he’s honest to god  _ shocked  _ that he’s getting what he wants after throwing a fit but-

But Keith is a fucking softy! And he has needs too, alright? Like-... God, Lance’s cock just looks so fucking good now that he has the chance to focus on it. So.

“Don’t move.” Keith huffs it, pants left on the floor and the mattress soft under his knees as he comes up to straddle Lance, reaching back to slowly ease out the plug that’s kept his ass filled this entire time. 

He’s never seen Lance’s pupils so blown, never seen his nostrils flare and hands fist in anticipation so blatantly as Keith turns around to spit, dripping thickly down the head of Lance’s cock and thanking himself for going overboard with the lube because it means he can face him again, concentrated eye-contact where Lance looks like he’s going to overheat so Keith sinks backwards - bottoms himself out on Lance’s full cock and  _ fuuuck-... _

Fuck - fuck - fuck.

But nothing beats the groan of pure euphoria that has Lance’s eyes rolling into the back of his head as he finally gets the heat he craves - the tightness around him he needs.

It already has his hips rocking upward, immediately chasing after the feeling and getting greedy with it now that he’s been given it. 

Keith steadies himself - steadies his face - tries to keep at least _some_ semblance of power as Lance fucks up into him like he’s been denied for years instead of just one short hour.

“Fucking greedy…” he huffs out as a tease, but it’s sending waves of beautiful heat down his body too. He can’t deny that. And if Lance wants to do all the work, then so be it.

Keith gathers a little higher onto his knees because it’s fun to make him work harder for it. But it also lets him lean forward - lets him slurp up one of his hard nipples and tease it with his tongue.

Lance’s muffled groan is delicious, fingers white-knuckling around the pegs of his headboard as he hangs on for dear life. Especially as Keith drags his tongue across his chest to the other one, sucking enthusiastically before licking back over to the other again.

It’s madness - Lance’s hips pitching upward - cock hitting deep - Keith swapping quickly and messily between nipples and loving the whines it gets him.

Because Lance isn’t gonna last long. He never does with something like this. But Keith can’t really blame him and doesn’t expect him to - just expects to get the life fucked out of him for a few good minutes and enjoys the buildup and-

_ “Hmhh-” _

He’s gonna cum.

Keith can see it in his eyes.

_ “Hmh- mmhm-mm-” _

“Well c’mon,” he smirks up at him, rolling both nipples between his fingers and giving a good  _ squeeze  _ and-

“Hmmh!”

Lance’s hips fuck up into him and stutter, practically lifting Keith off his knees but his eyes are squeezing shut and he can feel it as he pumps into him - hot and thick and  _ jesus - is he gonna break through those restraints? _

It’s hazy but they stay tied, Lance’s hips finally falling and cock slipping out and Keith just loves to watch his come-down. Hairline damp with sweat… Chest heaving… Drool from the gag sliding down his neck… Eyelids heavy when he opens them…

He’s pretty as fuck and Keith kinda wants to take a picture.

But…

“H-...hhhhmg…”

Keith grins, allowing himself a little rock of his own hips, riding slowly off the friction between their bodies. “My turn…” Because Lance has a very important decision to make. “Gag or restraints…”

And the heat that sparks in those eyes all over again when Keith says it is to die for.

“Pick which one comes off. The other one stays on.”

* * *


	4. Underwater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> <strike>Forniphilia (Human Furniture) | 69 Position </strike>| Underwater |<strike> Orgasm Denial </strike>
> 
> **Summary:** Lance wants to spend time alone in the hot spring with his beloved boyfriend, not stuck with the planet’s council members they came here with. But he supposes he can still get a little QT with his qt (qt? cutie? get it?). He just has to be sneaky about it.  
**Additional Tags:** established relationship, canon-compliant but aged up, public handjob, lance is sneaky and keith’s got a good poker face to people who don’t know his tells

* * *

The Darian hot spring breathes life into Lance’s muscles the very second they step into it. Even  _ with  _ the fact that he and Keith are here with some of the planet’s council members. And even  _ with  _ the fact that it’s a no-clothes hot spring (holy shit, Keith had  not  taken that well). 

He’s gotta say, it’s a little weird to be naked with other people, but the water covers everything. It keeps their modesty. Even for the tall Darians that sit across from the two of them, completely comfortable in their familiarity.

“Wasn’t the festival simply marvelous?”

“Absolutely. Vondriel did a wonderful job.”

They’re fresh off the festival in question. It was a whirlwind of color and excitement and now they’re here, loosening their muscles - a weird kind of chill-afterparty - as is customary, apparently.

Even Keith is getting with the program and relaxing - a miracle within itself because god, sometimes it’s an Olympic sport getting him to just fucking  _ unclench.  _ But he’s doing it, god bless him. And seeing him be able to relax lulls Lance into this sort of comfy state too despite his nakedness, the warmth of the water and familiarity of the shoulder pressed to his leaving him easy-going.

And honestly - like, if he’s just being honest here - he’d really rather have this time alone with his wonderful boyfriend. It’s the perfect setting - all steamy and the stars out above them and all that kind of sexy shit. They haven’t had any time to themselves for a few days now and Lance’s fingers are starting to itch.

And yet.

“How long do you suppose it took them to put together that light show?”

More talking.

“Oh, no less than a few korsos, wouldn’t you say?”

_ More talking. _

“Impressive.”

“Truly.”

They don’t need Lance and Keith here. They aren’t even paying that much attention to them, are they?

“A work of art.”

They aren’t.

But  _ Lance _ has some attention to pay. 

Keith’s bare thigh tenses under his hand as soon as he rests it there under the water, startled but familiar. 

An innocent touch.

They do this all the time, but not around other people.

“I heard Vondriel was the center of some shady business, actually.”

“No.”

_ “Yes.” _

“Certainly not Vondriel.”

Lance stays tuned in, always on the lookout for some drama to scoop up, but that doesn’t stop his hand from starting a slow stroke back and forth against Keith’s thigh under the water. Doesn’t stop him from returning the look when Keith turns his head to fix him with a subtle but calculating eye-narrow.

Like he’s speculating.

Like he’s wondering if Lance has something up his sleeve.

(Lance  _ always has something up his sleeve.) _

“Tell us more.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“You must - you’ve already brought it up.”

The water bubbles around them, leaving everything below the surface hidden from view and the perfect way to mask how Lance slips his hand down over Keith’s inner thigh as the others talk, silently judging his boyfriend’s heated nostril flare before using his hold to nudge those thighs open-

Keith’s hand clamps around his wrist underwater, gaze sharpening into warning - melting into something more dangerous because Lance is keeping still but hooking his foot around Keith’s ankle - is using it to pull his legs back open, a smirk threatening to slip  _ but he’s gotta keep it cool. _

Keith’s head turns forward again. 

He’s clearly eyeing the council members in front of them. Trying to see if they’re noticing but his lashes flutter as Lance’s hand snakes its way between his now parted thighs to cup his balls without shame.

“Something to do with the ambassador’s daughter.”

“The ambassador’s daughter?”

“Yes, his second-oldest.”

“You’re joking.”

It’s hot here. Steamy. But nothing compares to the swallow that works its way down Keith’s throat with the droplets of water over his skin. Because Lance is moving his hand. Massaging a little, the grip around his wrist tightening as he plays with Keith’s balls out of view. 

He’s gonna get his hand jerked away.

Gonna get a firm talking to in private, isn’t he.

But it’s not coming.

And it’s not coming.

And Lance wants to glance over but doesn’t, attention fixed on where the Darian council members are apparently spilling some incredible tea even as he continues to fondle his dear sweet loved one below the water’s surface.

It’s farther than he saw himself getting, honestly.

And fuck, if he’s getting  _ this  _ far…

Keith clears his throat, but that’s not what it is. He knows it. Lance knows it. Everyone should know it but apparently it’s just them and that makes Lance bold. Makes him drag his hand up and over where Keith’s sitting here hard - all out in the open - nothing but the water to hide himself and  _ oo fuck,  _ this is super sexy, isn’t it-

Keith’s hold around his wrist tears him away and back into his own space - the water rippling around them and  _ just  _ enough of an attention grabber because there’s suddenly eyes on them. Several sets. Questioning and concerned and-

“So what, you’re saying Vondriel’s risking it all for the ambassador’s daughter?” Lance rattles it off like a pro. Doesn’t miss a fucking beat. Redirects and keeps the flow going and ignores the insane way his pulse beats against his chest because the council members are falling right back into their conversation like nothing happened - too caught up in the scandal to focus on what Lance has specifically steered them away from.

He doesn’t dare chance a peek over at Keith.

Doesn’t dare do anything but lay low for a few minutes. That’s the plan. That’s what  _ should  _ be the plan. That’s-... Listen, plans are made to be broken, right?

Slow. Slow. Sooooo so slowly, Lance’s hand sliding along the smooth dark stone they’re sitting on, his pinky nudging experimentally against Keith’s outer thigh. 

Knocking.

Waiting for him to open up.

Hello? Is anyone there?

Beside him, Keith has drawn his hands back to himself, but there’s no wrist grabbing. No denying push away. And that’s...good, right?

Lance brushes the backs of his knuckles up his boyfriend’s leg… Smooth with it... All the way up... 

And there’s still no resistance. 

Still no denial.

Even when he flattens his hand to get a nice hold over Keith’s inner thigh again. They don’t move. They don’t part for him, but that’d be so out of Keith’s character that Lance isn’t expecting it. But he’s still expecting the hand. Still expecting the grab. Expects it all the way up until he flattens his palm over Keith’s lower abdomen and creeps downward...slowly...slowly...so so slowly...and-

“Hhhh…” 

Keith’s concentrated sigh is music to Lance’s ears as he gives that hard dick an experimental upstroke. 

Because a hand is dropping onto him again, but this time it’s over his forearm. Steadying. Still warning but not exactly pushing him away so Lance does it again - a nice, slow stroke all the way up to the head of Keith’s cock and then back down.

He can hear Keith swallow. Can hear it work down his throat as he shifts in the water, taking a breath in while he keeps his eyes on the conversation in front of them.

Just like Lance. 

Gotta stay tuned into both.

Gotta listen but also rub his thumb over the tip of Keith’s cock because  _ damn  _ he’s fucking hard - is he turned on by more than just the touch? Is Lance’s boyfriend a little freak over here?

“When was the last time you’d spoken to her?”

“Who’s that.”

“Nyra.”

“Oh, just the other day.”

“Really? And she didn’t say anything about it?”

The answer is lost on Lance, he’s not gonna lie. Because he’s definitely testing just how easily he can jerk Keith off without his upper body moving - just from his hand to his elbow. 

It’s stupidly easy.

He could make Keith cum right here and it’d be  _ stupidly easy. _

“Not a peep.”

“Fascinating.”

Steam rises from the water’s surface but Keith’s overheating now for a far better reason. And Lance just has to take a little peek over. Has to admire how his sweaty bangs stick to his forehead. How his jaw tenses in an attempt to even himself out. How he sinks down just a little deeper into the water, eyelashes fluttering as Lance works his cock with a teasing twist on the upstroke - all hidden from view.

He’s got a crazy good poker face but Lance can see it melting from this close. Knows what to look for.

“Perhaps she simply doesn’t feel the need to share.”

“Perhaps.”

“You know she runs a tight ship when it comes to personal affairs.”

“I can hardly see that being the reason when she’s gone out of her way to get involved with Vondriel.”

Vondriel, Vondriel, Vondriel. 

It’s all starting to muddle over a little in Lance’s brain - two tasks that are clearly disproportionate in both importance and just plain fun, honestly.

Because listening in on local drama is cool and all, but Lance is hard-pressed to find anything more enticing than the clearing of Keith’s throat as he brings a hand out from the water to smooth his sweaty bangs back off his forehead.

It’s getting to him. 

The pump of Lance’s hand around him beneath the water’s surface.

It’s all in the flex of his jaw and the rise of his chest and the way his eyes slip shut quickly - for just a moment - just that one good second before he catches himself.

But his grip around Lance’s forearm is starting to tighten.

“Are you saying she’s not acting in her own best interest?”

Lance’s attention flicks to the stone clock at the edge of the hot spring.

“No, I’m not saying she is.”

Thank god he followed Allura’s orders and learned how to read the oil that pools into specific slots.

“Interesting.”

They’ve only got a few more minutes until this place closes.

He can definitely make Keith cum by then.

“Anyway, I’m puzzled as to why we’re focusing on her when a large portion of the blame falls on Vondriel's shoulders.”

“Hm... I suppose this is true. What’s your take, paladin?”

Just a millisecond of time. That’s all it takes for Lance to focus back in, brows rising in interest and hand still moving underwater. “Oh, Vondriel all the way.”

“Really?”

“For sure.”

“Interesting. Why do you say that.”

Whoops. “Well uh…” Should he stop jerking Keith off? ... ...nah. “He’s the one that went after her, right?” (Keith is subtly sinking himself lower into the water next to him - that’s kinda precious.) 

“As far as we know.”

“Alright, so…” 

His answer seems to please the council member who had sent the question in his direction in the first place, her smile of victory pointed toward the one sitting to her left.

Just as long as it’s enough to get the attention off them and get Keith’s nails to stop clawing at his arm, right?

Speaking of.

Lance doesn’t turn to check in but it’s easy to see how Keith’s free hand lifts from the water again, dripping and this time swiping down his face.

It’s getting hard for him to deal.

Hard for him to hide his adam’s apple bobbing from his rough swallow - the flush over his face that definitely isn’t from the hot water.

They’ve got about a minute before closing and Lance is slowly realizing just how obsessed he’s become with timing this out right, his strokes quickening so much that he too has to sink a little deeper into the water to hide the way it has his top half moving.

But it’s enough.

Enough to mask it.

Enough to have his sweet little beloved’s head starting to list forward, eyelids heavier than they should be before fluttering shut entirely from the feeling which is a  _ whoops! _

Fix your face, Keith.

_ Fix your face, Keith. _

His hand comes up out of the water again. Pushes his bangs back again, but a few fall short, and his fingers drift just too long past his cheeks but at least his eyes are opening. At least he’s pulling his shit together on this side of the water, nails biting into Lance’s forearm on the other as he brings him there - pulls it out of him - feels Keith’s thighs press together under the water and hears the groan at the back of his throat that gets disguised as a cough and Lance times that shit out _perfectly. _Right to the fucking _second. _And oh god, who would’ve thought this could be so hot?

He did.

He thought. 

Hence the secret handjob.

In front of them, the council members wrap up their long-ass conversation about Vondriel and the festival and all that shit that Lance was forced to sit through. But he doesn’t hear any of it. 

Nope, the only thing he plans to focus on for the next long while is the way Keith lets out a shaky breath through his nose beside him, fingers finally releasing Lance’s arm just as the last council member climbs out of the water to the right.

And then, when they’re finally alone…

_“You_...are a _fucking_ _ lunatic...” _

Lance can’t help but grin at him, wishing they could stay here and have their real hot spring time together.

But out from the water they must come.

And Lance guesses it’s okay. Because time with Keith is a good time no matter where they may spend it. Even if it’s just back on the ship in one of their rooms. 

And besides, he’s got a feeling Keith’s all ready to make him answer for the shit he just pulled.

* * *


	5. Breathplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> <strike>Size Difference | Distension | Knotting </strike>| Breathplay
> 
> **Summary:** When Keith pops a hard-on from getting choked during their one-on-one training, Lance is surprised to say the least. When he lets slip that he may or may not be into breathplay, things may fly off the handle a little.  
**Additional Tags:** canon compliant, keith and lance are at their Friend Stage, they both know what they’re doing but haven’t done it with each other, so there’s talking/rule setting, keith’s cranky - be warned

* * *

Lance expects Keith to give it his all during their one-on-one training time.

He expects him to dig in, every movement calculated but heavy.

He expects everything. Because it’s how he always is when they have the training room to themselves. But what he doesn’t expect is the hum against his palm as he pins Keith to the floor with a hand around his neck, the hips under his ass pressing up _ just the slightest bit into him and- _

Lance tears his hand away. Stares down at where Keith’s eyes have flown open wide where he’s pinned because _ hang on- _

“Did you just-”

“No.”

He’s been caught. Keith has been caught and he knows it and there’s that familiar glint of fight-or-flight flashing through those eyes but he-

He just-

He was just _ totally _into that, wasn’t he.

Lance narrows his stare, gears turning, tone even. “Is it the choking or the breathing?”

The struggle has left them panting but just a little. Not enough to distract from the way Keith is very much trying to push at Lance’s knees as he situates himself on top of him. 

He’s not gonna answer.

“It’s cool man,” (that’s fine, Lance will spearhead this). “Me and this girl fucked around with breathplay back on Earth.”

Keith huffs, seeming to finally come to grips with the fact that he’s trapped. “You don’t _ ‘fuck around’ _with breathplay, Lance.”

“Oh-” oh _ please, _“Yeah I know - definitely not the safest thing, right? We for sure knew what we were doing though - don’t you worry your little ol’ self.”

Ahh, good times. Lance misses those days.

Beneath him, Keith has successfully cycled through lightning-quick arousal to concern - from concern to irritation - and now from irritation to a mellowed out sort of acceptance, his gaze tired. “What are you trying to say, Lance.”

Not a question.

Lance is gonna answer it anyway. Gonna reach down and dare to fit his open palm lightly over Keith’s throat, just to see the way that mellowed out acceptance turns just the slightest bit heated.

Interesting.

“So it’s the breathing then, huh.” He doesn’t even squeeze. Just lets his hand rest there, entertained by the feeling of Keith’s adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “That’s what does it for ya.”

Because Keith’s clearly done this before, if he knows to call Lance out on his frivolous comment. 

And he hasn’t applied even the slightest bit of pressure but Keith’s eyes are locking onto his. And he isn’t tearing Lance’s hand off. And…

“What was your sign.”

“My sign?”

“Yeah, you know,” Lance plucks his hand away but only so he can crack his knuckles. And don’t think he misses how Keith’s gaze tracks after it. “Your safe-word. Your tap-out.”

He’s taking a long time to pop each knuckle on purpose. Draws it out. Can’t deny the excitement that works its way through his body as Keith watches each and every one of them. 

Because they both may have the background but this is new territory for _ them. _

They’re still fresh off that tiptoe into actual friendship.

And one miss-step could have them sailing back, but-

“Keith?” Eyes flicking back up to his. “Tap-out?”

It seems to land this time, his attention no longer divided as Lance cracks his pinky and then stops. “Uh…” he’s thinking - accessing memories - has _ most definitely done this before _because he says it, “Just this…” two pats landing against the side of Lance’s leg.

“Huh.” Lance nods, pleasantly surprised and body shifting just the slightest on top of him as he drops his hand back down. “Simple. Stream-lined. I like that in a kink-”

“Ugh...”

“What - I do,” palm settling over Keith’s neck again, thumb on one side, middle finger pressing just a little to find his pulse. “And you like being choked, so…”

Keith would snap something but they both know it’s true now. And he’s more occupied with this anyway, his jaw flexing as Lance finds that pulse, heavy under the pads of his fingers.

“Also know you gotta say if something doesn’t feel right, yeah?”

Keith swallows thickly, nostrils flaring. “I’m not a rookie, Lance.”

The hum of it vibrates against Lance’s palm in a weirdly enticing way. And they really probably shouldn’t be crossing this threshold. Not now and _ definitely _not out in the open in the training room like this, but-

“Hey,” Keith’s throat buzzes under him, attention locked. “You gonna do it or not.”

It’s a challenge. Encouragement. Has Lance giving his face one more look over before starting the game.

He does it slowly. Oh-so slowly. Muscle memory activating as he applies the pressure up high on the sides of Keith’s neck with the pads of his fingers. 

But it’s slow. Oh-so slow. Building up but worth it just from the sight of Keith’s lips parting… The slight furrow of his eyebrows but he keeps that eye-contact. Because his airway isn’t fully cut off yet but it’s getting there. 

Lance drops his other hand to Keith’s chest to keep an eye on the rise and fall - how it drags. How his skin is getting hot under Lance’s touch and he just has a little more pressure to go before he can’t breath, so-

He lets go. 

Eases off entirely and opens up his airway.

Keith’s chest rises fuller below his hand. Eyes blink slowly up at him, pupils already a little wider than normal.

“Mm?” A check-in. Honest.

Keith gives him a nod, already reaching out to grab his wrist and pull his hand back around his throat.

So he’s an impatient one, huh? Doesn’t like a lot of time between each cut-off?

It’s more dangerous that way but Lance knows what he’s doing - has done this shit enough times to recognize when to step in with better judgement. And they’ve only just started, so.

“This kinda suits your whole personality, ya know…” He’s teasing. Starting up the pressure and working a little quicker this time, something warm blossoming in his gut as Keith wets his lips and keeps them parted again. 

He’s stealing the last bit of air before Lance takes it from him - before he cuts him off. Because Lance goes all the way this time, heavy pulse quickening under his fingers and he knows he’s sealed his airway off when Keith’s chest stops rising beneath his palm. 

He’ll only hold it for a moment - just a little this first time - but it’s tempting to keep it up when Keith’s eyebrows are furrowing so cutely - when his face is starting to turn nice and red - when his eyes roll to the back of his head before fluttering shut but-

Lance releases. 

Forgets how much he loves that first desperate intake of breath until he hears it again after all these years, Keith’s chest rising quicker below him as the oxygen rolls back in.

It’s flooding over him down there. The dopamine and endorphins and all that good shit that Lance learned releases after a good first heavy breath.

“Okay?”

Gotta check in.

Gotta try but fail to hide the smirk as Keith nods again, eyes still closed but hand reaching out blindly for Lance’s wrist, except:

“Hey, chill.” He’s got this. “Breathe, dude - don’t be greedy.”

He’ll give it to him. He’ll give him more, they just have to get some oxygen to his brain first.

“M’fine…”

Keith’s voice has gone rough - coarse from the pressure and _ yeah _it’s kinda sexy but whoops, Lance must be putting pressure on his windpipe.

He can fix that.

“Just breathe.”

But he’s teasing his fingers under the curve of Keith’s jawline...tracing the bone...slow over heated skin...and then _ pressure. _Back at the sides of his neck - not the front - never the front - Keith’s face turning that pretty shade of pink again like clockwork.

And it should be worrying, right? He should be worried? That they’re both so into this shit? That they’re doing this together, Keith’s legs drawing up to where Lance is staked out in his lap and head tilting back against the floor as his oxygen gets cut off by his own teammate.

But…

How can Lance deny that pink face? Those pinched eyebrows? That hand, coming up to grab at his forearm but not push - not tap out - just hang on, the veins in his forehead starting to press nicely under his skin.

Because it’s been a good amount of time now without air.

Keith’s eyes drop open and they’re _ so hazy _\- so glossy and unfocused as they slip up to where Lance is gauging his every move.

The taps are gonna come soon.

Keith wants Lance to bring him there. Wants it as much as he can before tapping out, his hands falling to Lance’s spread thighs.

Just a second more and then-

Two taps, quick but obvious and the room is echoing with the hungry strangled breath Keith takes into his lungs through his mouth as soon as Lance’s hand drops away.

It’s immediate on both their parts and Lance is a little mesmerized. A little proud of how good they are at this shit right off the bat. A little turned on - he’s not gonna lie - especially as he sits back more, giving Keith space to breathe but maybe sliding back a bit _ too _ far because his heart is sinking immediately when he feels it, nice and hard in Keith’s sweatpants.

Oh wow, he really _ is _super into this, isn’t he-

“Get off.”

“W-...” Lance shifts forward, willing to pretend he didn’t notice, but Keith is serious-

_ “Get off-” _embarrassed - still catching his breath but Lance does as he’s asked, swinging his leg back over and giving him space, but-

“Whoa, hang on dude.” Because Keith’s gathering to his feet, fueled by the endorphins and the shame but he shouldn’t be ashamed - why the fuck is he-

Lance spots it immediately. Already knows to stand up and follow after him because it comes like clockwork, Keith’s little halt in his step before listing backward.

But Lance is there to catch him. There to hold his stupid lightheaded ass, grin teasing as he says it over his shoulder. “Not a rookie, huh? That’s definitely a rookie move.”

You don’t rush up when your brain’s just been deprived of oxygen - awkward boner or no awkward boner.

Keith brings a hand to his face, fingers rubbing over his closed eyes before apparently coming to his senses. 

And Lance is just gonna say it. “I don’t care that you’re hard, dude.” Just gonna put it out there and hope for the best.

But Keith is Keith. And his pride is like something Lance has never seen before. So when it happens, he kind of expects it - the wrench out of Lance’s arms, right-headed again and purpose in his step as he continues to the door.

He expects him to pull his whole classic Angry Disappearing Act and he does. 

But Lance lets him.

Because it’s a lot to process for two people who’ve just technically stepped over into that friend-threshold. And if there’s anything he knows about Keith, it’s that he’s predictable. 

So he’s ready to bet his life on the fact that this won’t be the only time he’s gonna get a hand around that neck. 

Not when Keith knows what he can do for him now.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Part Two](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16867456/chapters/53945596)


	6. Domesticity/Bulges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> <strike>Upskirt Sex </strike>| Domesticity |<strike> Creampie </strike>| Bulges
> 
> **Summary:** Now that they're living together, one of Keith's favorite things to do is watch scary movies with Lance. Because Lance will use any kind of tactic to distract them. Because Lance is a baby. But Lance is _Keith's_ baby and maybe not all distractions are bad.  
**Additional Tags:** i feel like bulges means something else but im using it as like 'lance is hard and wearing sweatpants and god _damn_ boy that bulge', established relationship, clothes sharing, **trans keith with no afab language, they love each other and im soft

* * *

Keith loves Lance.

He loves the stupid jokes he makes and how he dances around their house and the way he pretends he’s not afraid of scary movies when they watch them together. 

But he is. He is afraid of them. Kind of a big ol’ baby, if Keith’s gonna be honest here. But there’s nothing quite as endearing as how he tries to hide it, opting to sit on the floor instead of on the couch tonight. It’s so he can hide his face.

But Keith knows better.

So maybe he sits behind him and hooks his bare legs over his shoulders for him to hang onto, both of them comfortable with the touch even when Lance’s grip gets a little desperate during more intense scenes.

Like now - the buildup - a slowly panning video camera feed that’s sure to lead into a jump-scare because that’s just how Paranormal Activity movies work. (They’re not Keith’s all-time favorite but the pop-outs get Lance good _ every single time.) _

He can’t remember what the jump-scare is for this particular scene, but it hardly matters with how the hold Lance has around his shins is tightening in anticipation. It’s cute. He’s cute. Keith loves him, but he thinks he’s said that already-

_ “Jesus-” _

Okay it was just a door swinging open with no explanation this time but it still got him - Keith still heard him - that low, almost irritated way Lance speaks under his breath when he gets scared by something stupid.

“You alright down there…?”

Mumbling. Still on edge. Hands sliding up Keith’s legs to hook around his calves. 

He’s moving around to steady himself.

Keith accepts his answer, pleased with the touch. Call him morbid or a freak or whatever you will, but there’s something about scary movies that _ might _get him just a little turned on. The adrenaline? The rush?

Or maybe it’s literally just how Lance distracts himself from it by turning his head to nose at the inside of his thigh. Because Keith is in his boxer briefs - in the sweater he stole from his loving boyfriend’s closet before collapsing onto the couch tonight. It’s his favorite one and Lance never complains but-

“Babe.”

“Mm.”

“Watch the movie.”

_ “Mm.” _The last one’s whiny in the most disgruntled way. 

But back to the screen his head turns.

Up on the couch, Keith drapes his arms over his belly, comfy and admiring the way the sleeves of Lance’s sweater cover his chilly hands. There’s a fire going in the fireplace - he had made it while Lance cleaned up dinner - but he’s still cold from their day of apple picking.

“Is there a lot left?”

Of the movie. Lance is asking about the movie.

“Yeah, like an hour.”

“Mm.” 

He presses the side of his face into Keith’s knee but keeps his eyes forward. Keeps watching. Tenses, shoulders coming together in anticipation as a little girl speaks to no one, her gaze cast high toward the corner of her bedroom.

Keith should really take this boy to a haunted house, shouldn’t he. He’d be all over him.

“Is Toby real?”

From the movie. Lance is asking about the movie again.

“I’m not saying anything.”

“Toby can’t be real, right?”

“Just watch.”

_ “Uuugh.” _

Keith would throw him a look for his dramatic groan if he wasn’t so caught up in how cute he looks as he lets his head fly backward into his lap, brows pinching and pout at the ready as he looks up at him and _ ugh. _

Keith clicks his tongue but skips over the eye roll. Because he’d much rather lean forward, planting a quick upside down kiss to Lance’s lips, “Don’t be a baby,” before leaning back.

Or that’s the plan, at least. But Lance is reaching up, snagging a hand around the back of Keith’s neck and gently reeling him back in for another kiss. A longer one. Steamier. Tongue gliding slowly over his and it’d be sneaky if it wasn’t a Textbook Lance Move - using a little making out to distract them from something he doesn’t wanna do.

Because the movie is still playing in front of them - another long sequence of dead-silent video camera footage that leaves the sounds of their kisses no place to hide.

Just like the last time they watched a Paranormal Activity.

Lance breathes out through his nose, determined not to break their kiss as he twists until he’s right side up - until he’s kneeing between Keith’s legs and moving in closer, mouth chasing.

“Lance.”

“Mm?”

Pressing forward. Crawling up to get one knee on the couch and the other one ready to straddle and-

Keith pushes. Redirects. Sends him gently off into the opposite direction until he’s coming around to collapse next to him with a sigh, lips parted and kissed red.

Keith swallows down a smile but it’s hard. Especially with how that pout is threatening to roll around again - he can see it from here. 

But there’s a movie on. And as much as he enjoys a little makeout session, he wants Lance to finish it. 

So. “Nice try.”

Lance licks his lips. Pointed in his silence. Just cute enough that Keith has to drop a hand to his thigh - has to express some sort of affection as a reminder that he loves him dearly even as he’s making him suffer in more ways than one now. 

Because all it takes is a quick peek down at him to see how Lance’s dick is pressing against his grey sweatpants over there. 

Anything for a distraction, huh.

The fire crackles off to the side, casting shadows that probably don’t help the spooky tension in the slightest. But the warmth is to die for - as is the warmth of Lance’s skin through his pants. 

He always runs hot. 

Is just a _ very hot boy, _Keith guesses.

And okay…

...alright, maybe just one more peek over at that dick.

Mm. 

Nice.

Lance’s thigh tenses under his hand at the sudden scream that tears from the TV. It’s when Keith realizes that he hasn’t even been watching - distracted all on his own this time. 

But Lance is doing a good job focusing now (believe it or not) so maybe he deserves a reward. Maybe he’s earned a little perk, the couch dipping under Keith as he slips onto his stomach, mind already made up way before this, honestly.

Because Lance may love him in this sweater, but Keith loves him in these sweatpants more. Loves just how easily it is to see the tempting outline of his dick at all times. Especially when it’s getting hard like this. _ So- _

The breath Lance lets out as soon as Keith presses his open mouth against him is heavy but relieved in more ways in one. Like he’s grateful for the attention - the slow but loving way Keith mouths up the length of his cock through his pants - but also beyond grateful that he’s been delivered an excuse to ignore the movie, except-

“Keep watching.”

Keith murmurs it. Slowly drags his mouth up and down the length hardening like clockwork under his lips. Accepts the fingers coming up to thread through his hair even though he’s about to be moving on, the fabric now soaked through and Keith _ really _ didn’t mean for this to become a full-blown distraction but _ ugh. _Yeah, he’s definitely starting to ache.

But he can still spin it. Can still say it: “Watch the movie, babe.” even as he’s climbing into Lance’s lap, the warmth immediately spreading through his body as he parts his thighs and starts a nice slow grind on top of that cock.

Lance’s hands find his waist, one sliding under his sweater and up his spine. But he does as he’s asked. Fixes his gaze over Keith’s shoulder to where the family is having some sort of conversation that gets lost on Keith because the warmth that pools between his legs as he drags himself over Lance’s hard cock is to die for. Even through his briefs. Even through the sweatpants. It’s to die for and he keeps that slow, steady grind, arms looping around Lance’s neck as he breathes in his cologne.

The fireplace casts their shadows onto the wall behind them. Silhouettes how Keith sways in his lap until he’s wet enough to want more. Wet enough to push his boxer briefs down - to pull Lance’s sweatpants over his hips. Wet enough to spit in his hand and rub it over the head of his cock before slowly teasing it through his folds and _ fuck- _

“Hnnn- baby-”

“Keep watching.” 

“You’re so mea-_hnnn-” _

But Keith’s too happy to protest - has too many pleasure points popping off as he sinks onto Lance as fully as possible, his eyes fluttering shut and staying that way even though this _ wasn’t supposed to be this full-blown a distraction - his bad. _

“God…”

He starts up a rhythm that’s nice and slow, heat washing over his body in the best way as he rides Lance on the couch, something crashing on the screen behind him. He presses his thighs tight. Tangles his fingers in Lance’s shirt. Eats up the ones that slip under his sweater and squeeze his bare ass, his boxer briefs still looped around his ankle.

Someone screams in the movie.

Some sort of honest to god paranormal activity. 

Keith feels how Lance's cock jumps inside of him from the startle and just keeps fucking himself, back arching off an especially good bounce, shadow flickering against the back wall, tongue working over his own fingers to get them wet before dropping between them and dipping under his sweater to play with himself.

Lance is biting his lip beneath him, gaze starting to go hazy from the fuck because he’s definitely not watching the movie anymore - isn’t even trying to pretend like he was in the beginning. 

And that’s just fine with Keith because he’s getting himself close anyway, fingers rubbing just the way he needs to say it - “...m’gonna cum soon...” - just the way he needs to feel the heat uncurling and tipping over and he’s coming around Lance’s cock - clenching hard - almost too much to still be stretched and filled and cum at the same time but he eases himself through it. Lets it wash over him. Just barely hears it even though he should expect it, Lance’s orgasm always soon after when he’s got the visual of Keith’s unfolding right in front of him.

He slides out in time, hand working and Keith is just with it enough to reach out and help him pull his shirt up, giving him smooth skin and a nice chest to cum on.

He loves that shit. Watching Lance cum on himself. Almost as much as watching him pretend to not be scared of a movie. But those are two separate things, he guesses. Two separate kinds of entertainment.

And yes. Looks like tonight, he got the pleasure of witnessing both.

“Mm...love you,” Lance murmurs, head resting against the back of the couch and smile unmistakably satisfied.

And Keith just has to huff a chuckle, his chest filled to the brim with that same satisfaction. “Love you too, you big baby.” 

* * *


	7. Begging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> <strike>Spit-Roasting | Angry/Hate Sex | Object Insertion </strike>| Begging
> 
> **Summary:** Keith has been looking over these notes in their room on this stupid underwater planet for what feels like hours now, unable to focus on anything else. Lance is needy and not happy and lets him know.  
**Additional Tags:** post-canon where they’re still doing missions, established relationship, whiny lance, keith is stressed but gives in because he's a suckaaaa

“Babe…”

...

“…baaabe…” 

...

“… _ baaaaabe-” _

“Lance, I’m working.”  _ Someone’s  _ gotta look over these plans for tomorrow. They’re the only two paladins that got sent to this underwater planet, after all. And Keith seems to be the only option, because his boyfriend is currently losing his shit behind him.

“It’s almost midnight - you seriously gotta look at that right now?”

“Yes.”

_ “Ugh.” _

He’s feisty. Has been pacing behind where Keith stands at the desk in their shared accommodations for what seems like forever now. 

It shouldn’t be taking this long, in all honesty. Keith should’ve wrapped his brain around the specifics after his second or third read-through, but for some reason it’s just not sticking.

Not like it had for Lance. One look and he was all good, apparently. And now he’s left to list hopelessly around their room, patience no longer within his own realm of possibility.

Especially as he slumps forward. “Baby I  _ need  _ you…” Wraps his arms around Keith from behind and practically whines in his ear. “It’s been so long since we’ve been able to fool around.”

“I know.” Trust Keith, he does. He knows  _ very  _ well. They may have very different sex drives, but even he’s felt it. But sometimes their mission has to come first. 

And right now, Lance can’t seem to accept that. “Babe…”

“Lance-”

“Babe  _ please.  _ I’m so pent up I feel like I’m gonna explode.”

The fish that move around their room outside cast shadows over the paper he’s trying to read. Just one more distraction. “Go jerk off then.”

“I want  _ you-” _

“I gotta read this-”

“Please.” His hold tightens around Keith, voice growing even more needy with how he stretches every word. “Please please  _ pleeease.” _

Keith sighs - has to look up at him through the reflection in the glass, eyes tired. “You’re not seriously begging right now, are you?”

“I am if it gets your dick in me.”

And-...okay. Okay that might’ve gotten him a little tiny bit, his nostrils flaring but- “This mission is important.”

“I know.”

“If we fuck it up it’s gonna be bad.”

“I know.” Lance presses into him, whether he means to or not completely up in the air, but Keith can feel how hard he is now. It’s not helping. Also not helping: “But if you don’t fuck me I’m gonna honestly scream.”

Dramatics at its finest. Classic.

It’s well-timed - the fish that swims by with a scrunched up face that Lance would describe as 'a whole entire mood’. Keith regards it with a nod. Solidarity. “I know, right?”

“Seriously?”

“What.”

“You’re giving more attention to a fish than you are to your boyfriend!” He’s pouting in the reflection now, all frowny and honestly pretty cute.

Alright fine. Keith guesses that was kind of a dick move. Even if Lance is being a huge whiny baby right now. 

No more talking to the fish. Just focusing. Wrapping his tired brain around this plan in front of him. Indulging a little in the way Lance murmurs into his ear from behind.

“C’mon, babe. Wouldn’t you rather fuck than read about politics?”

Is that even a question? “Obviously.”

“Then  _ fuck me.” _

Ugh - god - “Gimme twenty minutes and I-”

_ “Twenty minutes?” _

The hold around him releases dramatically, sending Keith a little off-even but not enough to break his concentration. 

Lance is about to have a fit back there. He’s gearing up - pace worrying a track into the floor - a whine starting to release from the back of his throat. He really is something else when he has to keep his horniness pent up, isn’t he.

“Alright  _ please,”  _ the sound of him dropping to his knees should be concerning, but not as concerning as the sound of him dragging his way back on them, practically whimpering and  _ Keith can’t look at him-  _ “Baby… Baby  _ pleeeease…” _

_ Can’t give in  _ \- can’t fully appreciate how Lance wraps his arms around his legs now that he’s kneed his way over here, face pressed into his lower back as he practically chants it.

“Please - I think I’m dying… I-...I’m gonna die if you don’t fuck me -  _ please,  _ baby…”

Dramatics are his strong suit and so is being cute. And unfortunately, he’s brandishing both right now with a kind of pathetic sort of neediness that’s working its way right into Keith’s heart.

His boyfriend.

His baby.

On his knees begging for attention.

Fuck. God _damn it - why is Keith such a sucker._

“Go get yourself ready.”

It’s like Lance doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. Which is valid because Keith also can’t believe what he’s hearing. But he’s been whittled down and his resolve is practically non-existent at this point so when Lance says it: “Really?” he just nods.

Which is more than enough for his boyfriend, his touch tearing away and body immediately flinging down onto the bed that they’re finally able to share. 

Keith notes it all but keeps his attention fixed on the paper in front of him, desperate for the words to sink in - for the plan to come easy - for the click of the lube they bought but haven’t been able to use yet to  _ not distract him _ but it’s not going very well.

“Ohhhh god…” 

It’s Lance.

It’s Lance from the bed, spread out on his back and fingers already pumping inside himself, getting ready.

“God babe when you get over here-...”

The kind of unfinished thought that works its way over to where Keith’s getting hard in spite of himself. It leaves too many open-ended thoughts. Too much space for too many nasty things.

Lance hums. Still sounds so  _ so needy. _

Keith can’t see him in the reflection anymore but his brain is doing a really good job painting that shit out for him instead of focusing on what it’s supposed to be focusing on.

And…

_ “Fuck  _ Keith c’mere I need you…”

Keith’s eyes drop shut, patience just a dot on the horizon line. 

And you know what? Fuck it. If he doesn’t get this plan now, he’s never gonna get it.

Lance is stretched out and beautiful and Keith wants to eat him whole the very second he turns - the very moment he gives in and follows the pull toward the bed and  _ oh, the excitement in Lance’s eyes. _

Keith steps out of his pants in record time, watches that excitement turn to heady greed because he’s nice and hard and Lance is starving - is slipping down to the edge of the bed - is showing him how he opened himself up just like he told him to and  _ fuck  _ Keith’s self control is spiraling.

But he’s still gotta tease. Still has to play a little, spitting quickly into his hand and rubbing it over the head of his cock but not making any moves to fuck him with it.

But his smirk says it all. “This what you wanted?”

“Ugh  _ yes-” _

“Ask nicely.”

“Please.” No downtime. Complete acceptance and legitimate confidence in his own begging. “Please babe - gimme that dick.” It’s not the first time and it’s not gonna be the last.

Keith eyes him over. Reaches down to spread Lance’s cheeks and spit again and it’s wholly unnecessary but he likes the way it has his boyfriend needy for it - needy for him.

“Keith-” brows pinching and a leg hooking around him to bring him in closer, “Fuck -  _ please - I’ll do anything.” _

It’s the last straw. The final snap of Keith’s control. 

And when he leans forward - when he lines himself up and teases the head of his cock just a little against his entrance but then  _ sinks in nice and slowly -  _ fuck, the noise Lance makes is like nothing he’s ever heard before.

It makes it all worth it - the badgering - the distractions - it’s all worth it because Lance is tightening around him and his eyes are squeezing shut but the smile dancing across his face is the most satisfying thing Keith’s seen. 

So he gives it to him. Gives him what he wants. Fucks into him as deeply as he needs and gets off to his happy little groans and at the end of the day, that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Lance being happy? Lance getting what he wants? (‘What I  _ deserve,’  _ he would probably correct if he could hear Keith’s thoughts right now.) Because when Lance is happy, Keith is happy. And it’s really as easy as that.

Outside, the fish with the scrunched up face floats lazily by.

The plans still sit silently on the table.

But here, Keith and Lance melt into one another, everything else taking a back seat. 

Because sometimes, Keith just needs a little reminder of what’s really important.

* * *


	8. Solo/Masturbation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> <strike>Jealousy/Possessiveness | Menstruation </strike>| Solo/Masturbation |<strike> Feederism/Foodplay </strike>
> 
> **Summary:** Lance knows he shouldn't be jerking off to his roommate when he's sleeping right there, but here he is.  
**Additional Tags:** oh my god they were roommates, college au, lance is super attracted to keith and can't help himself, i guess technically some sort of dubious consent because keith's not awake, no dialogue in this one boys

* * *

Lance shouldn’t be jerking off to his roommate and he knows that. 

He shouldn’t even entertain the idea and he _ sure as fuck _shouldn’t be doing it in front of him while he’s sleeping but here he is.

Here they are.

Here Lance lies, bed sheets up to his chest even though it’s about a thousand degrees in here. 

Their dorm room is tiny and it doesn’t help - the heat doesn’t help - the fan doesn’t help because they’re still hot, the August night leaving his roommate shirtless and sweaty where he lies in his own bed just a little bit away and _ fuck, Lance really shouldn’t be touching himself. _

But he’s pent up. He’s sexually frustrated, his self control tested every single minute since the first day of their semester. Because that’s when he met him. Keith. That’s when he saw that gorgeous face and those nice arms and he knew he was in massive trouble.

It hasn’t even been a month yet and Lance is dying. Stretched too thin. Swallowing all his nasty thoughts and nasty desires and nasty daydreams because what’s worst of all, is Keith is actually a nice guy. He’s decent with sharing space and may get a little cranky sometimes but he doesn’t deserve all that nasty shit swirling in Lance’s brain about him.

But here he is.

Here they are.

Here Lance lies, willing the thoughts to just _ fuck off _but it’s hardest at night. They’re almost impossible not to dwell on once the lights flick off and Keith’s stretching out on his back and there’s silence - nothing but the pulse in Lance’s ears and the sound of Keith breathing beside him. 

It shouldn’t get him hard but there’s no other distractions anymore. He can’t brush off Keith’s shirtless-ness after soccer and go hang out with Hunk. He can’t pop his headphones in to pass over the urge to make a gross joke about Keith’s little grunts when he uses the thin space between their beds to get his sit-ups in. He just has to lay here. Has to watch the images that paint themselves across his ceiling and his eyelids and he shouldn’t give in and drag a hand down to stomach but here he is.

Here they are.

Here Lance lies, eyes fluttering shut but brows pinched because it feels way too good. It shouldn’t shoot sparks up his spine. He shouldn’t get so much weirdly animalistic pleasure out of just his hand. It’s definitely because he can’t block out the sound of Keith’s even breathing a few feet away. 

And once he starts, he can’t stop. No matter how wrong it is. No matter how gross he is for jacking off to his roommate while he sleeps. He should know better and _ do better _because Keith doesn’t deserve this but Keith’s also the one who flashes him those smirks when he comes back in from the showers, hair damp and muscles still nice and slick.

He’s the one who body-tackled him during soccer today. A friendly match in the quad. They’re not even on an organized team or anything but he went _ super fucking hard _for no goddamn reason and how is Lance supposed to cope when he’s got Keith on top of him, chest heaving and grin heated? 

The breath he lets out is shaky, just from the memory, pleasure working up his spine. 

What if he fucks like that? What if he’d fuck _ Lance _like that?

Lance doesn’t even know if he’s into guys, but _ god. _ It’s enough to lose himself in completely. But he can’t - eyes slipping back open - slipping back into focus - slipping as he lets his head fall to the side on his pillow even though he shouldn’t because he _ shouldn’t fucking look at Keith _but here he is.

Here they are.

Here he lies, heat washing over his body as he takes in every annoying little detail in the boy next to him as he touches himself. He’s gross for it. He’s a sleezebag but Keith looks good even just lying there - bare chest rising and falling slowly - paving way to lean muscles - a tight stomach and tight abs and _ fuck, that happy trail disappearing into his boxer briefs- _

Lance swallows a groan before it can slip out, his hand working quicker under the thin sheet. His mouth is watering and he knows it. Wonders just how obvious he is when the sun’s out and he’s pretending like he’s not checking him out. He’s gonna let it slip one of these days. It’s inevitable. And then what? Keith freaks out? Petitions to switch dorm rooms? Wants nothing to do with Lance’s stupid horny self ever again or-... Or…

Or what if it went the other way?

What if he was into it?

What if he sees Lance checking him out and _ digs that shit _and presses Lance into his desk and ruts up into him and-

Keith lets out a muffled noise from the back of his throat - a hum - barely anything but enough to have Lance’s hand freezing in fear. 

But he’s still asleep. Just dreaming.

Dreaming about…

The buildup back to the stroke Lance had is quick, all the right pleasure points popping and pooling and he tries his best to steady his breath, growing harder with each second. 

He respects Keith.

He does.

He promises.

But Lance is just one poor boy that’s not even one month through what’s sure to be a long year of suffering and he just has to get it out some way. Has to uncork it and ease himself through before he explodes. And he swears to god he respects Keith as a human being and a friend but _ fuck, _he wants to just reach out and slip those black boxer briefs down over his hips. Wants to take a peek and maybe a little taste and Keith doesn’t even technically need to be awake but-

No.

No no no that’s gross. This is gross. All of this is already gross but he just needs a few more strokes and it’ll all be over. 

Lance breathes in but it’s shaky and too loud and he’s gonna wake him up. He’s gonna wake him up and he’ll see that he’s jacking off while watching him and everything will be ruined. He’ll switch rooms and hate him or _ crawl over into his bed and fuck him - yes that’s always an option too - fuck- _

It’s too much to imagine. Has Lance’s brow furrowing where he’s broken a sweat, eyes trailing over the absolute calm settled over his roommate's face a few feet away, lips parted and pretty and probably so addicting against his own if Lance could just get the chance. If he could man up and take a stand and demand Keith take responsibility for the shit he’s put him through but-

Another breath from him, easy through those parted lips, chest rising beautifully and Lance wants to drag his mouth all over it - all over him - get his tongue against that skin and drag those boxer briefs down with his teeth and by then Keith would be hard and waiting and-

Lance’s hips stutter - close close close but conscience fighting him because he’s disgusting and an idiot for doing this but he wants to cum - wants to get some release - wants to roll over and get on top of Keith and grind against him and _ wants to cum and he really shouldn’t but here he is. _

_ Here they are. _

_ Here he lies, _ breath shuddering and almost painful and Keith’s face the last thing he sees before he’s coming on his own stomach underneath the sheets, heat pouring over him and pleasure rolling through him. He has to clamp his mouth shut and bite through it and it’s too loud. He’s too loud. Everything is too loud and he just gets his eyes slammed shut as he sees Keith’s flutter open, hazy and unfocused but _ open. _

Fuck.

_ Fuck fuck fuck. _

Okay breathe.

Breathe.

Pretend he didn’t just cum all over himself.

Lance’s pulse is pounding in his eardrums but he stays still, willing his body to come across as completely at ease as the seconds tick by...seconds to minutes...minutes to what feels like days but it’s most likely only been a moment or two.

And he knows he shouldn’t open an eye to give a little peek, but here he is.

Here they are.

Here Keith lies, gaze focused into something easy but frighteningly awake, his eyes trailing over Lance in silent thought before locking onto his in the dark.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Part Two](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16867456/chapters/50651504)


End file.
